Perfect Moment
by Laura135
Summary: Chained to the wall in a Death Eater cell, Draco Malfoy takes a moment to review his life, and the situations that conspired to bring him to where he is today.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

Life is full of those strange little moments; the one's we never realised were there until it was too late. Those opportunities that stare us right in the face and we never bat an eye. And I always find it funny that no matter how many times we swear it won't happen again, it always does. It sneaks up on us and before we know it the moment's passed and we're back where we started. Back to swearing that this time was the last time. Yeah right, like any of us ever believe that. Deep down we all know that when the time comes we'll look past it all over again. Because we're human, because we're weak.

I've been sitting in this cell for the past three weeks, and between the beatings, unforgivable curses and good old fashioned muggle torture I've been finding the time to think. To be honest, I never thought Voldemort would stoop to muggle torture, then again, to be honest, I never imagined Voldemort needing to torture _me_ either.

Who would have thought it? Draco Malfoy, the poster boy for Voldemort in a Death Eater cell, waiting for his day to die. I think the most ludicrous part of this is that I'm in here because I'm a _spy_ for none other than the Order of the Phoenix. I can see you're surprised and I'm so glad you've decided to stay and watch my miserable musings.

Speaking of musings, where was I?

Ah yes, those opportunities that we allow to slip through our fingers, like sand. I've let to many of them pass me by in my life.

When I was young, I always preferred to rule the other children, rather than attempt an actual friendship. It was the same at Hogwarts, I lorded it over my fellow housemates, but never actually considered any of them worthy to be my equal, well, they _were_ idiots after all, and that wasn't just me being elitist. Thank you Lucius for messing my mind up at _that _tender age. Really I appreciate it. The point i'm so painfully trying to make is that I never took the chance to form an actual friendship…pathetic isn't it?

There were some opportunities that I didn't pass up, and I find myself cherishing them more and more as the days pass by. There was one chance that I took…and I've never regretted it…not once.

* * *

_The first time I met her was one such opportunity. It was the summer after my fifth year and I was living in Diagon Alley._

Why wasn't I at Malfoy Manner? Simple, I had left at the end of the school year, left my family, me heritage, and more importantly, the clutches of the Death Eaters. I had money enough of my own, from various secret funds set up by my mother. And even now she was helping me evade capture, planting false leads in France and Bulgaria.

Why had I left? Because i'm a coward. It's that simple really. The great Draco Malfoy, the most loyal Slytherin you could ever hope to find, hate's killing people. I can not stand to watch innocent lives be taken. I can insult, humiliate and even cripple them…but I will not kill an innocent human being. All through my fifth year I tried in vain to deal with the knowledge of Voldemorts return, I knew the stories of his previous reign of terror, and until then they'd never bothered me. But something about the knowledge that he was back for good, that he was real, that he was alive, that he was planning more, brought the reality of the situation home to me and a way that had never happened before. Cedric Diggory was alredy dead, and who knew who was next? I tried to cover it up with false bravado and the usualy sneers, the fiasco in the Ministry of Magic at the end of fifth year was the beginning of the end for me really. Another death, and more to come doubtlessly. My father and his cronies captured, my mother hysterical, and the fear that I would be next, that I would be expected to take his place as a Death Eater.

So I fled.

_I remember walking along Diagon Alley one day, not long after my escape, when I came across the Parkinson brothers. You guessed it, Pansy Parkinson's older brothers, Peter and Parius._

Now the Parkinson brother's are strange. They're twins, and they're not exactly you're average Death Eaters. Oh they put on the masks and robes, go to the meetings and denounce the mud blood filth. But from time to time I can remember seeing a type of bleak pity in their eyes, and a seemingly accidental mercy killing. I can say without shame that they are the most intimidating and disturbing people I have ever come across. They're not large hulking figures, like Crabbe and Goyle, they're slender and lithe. They manage to exude an aura of relaxed danger and unassuming power without any apparent effort. Most importantly, they're intelligent, and smart enough to hide their true personalities.

_When I met them that day they pulled me into a back alley, I was unsure how to react. On the one hand, I was the man who had run away from my initiation; on the other they were not exactly what you would call your run of the mill viscous Death Eaters._

What puzzles me to this day was that they had actually saved my life. They stood there, in total silence staring at me, while behind them three Death Eater's walked past, deep in conversation. If they hadn't pulled me away I would have found myself the not so happy recipient of an unforgivable…or worse.

_I remember standing there, staring and trying to keep my expression one of quiet acceptance and bravery. In reality I was frantically trying to map escape routes and wondering whether or not they would really chase after me if I ran._

_After about ten minutes of absolute silence Peter turned to face the entrance to the alley, and my startled eyes saw none other that Ginny Weasley saunter in._

Now, it's a well known fact that I have _never _liked that family. I couldn't help it, I was raised that way…my child hood...I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But at that moment in time I was beaten, after all, I was only sixteen and living on my own. I had no friends, no family to speak of and I was living in almost constant fear. So the boundaries of my personality were being redrawn, and I was happy to see her.

So happy it took me a while to catch on that she hadn't happened upon me by chance.

"_You found him?" her voice was quiet and firm, I lifted my downcast eyes to stare at her._

She looked like an angel to me at that moment, although that might have been the fear for my life noticing that. Her hair was a darkened wine red that blended perfectly with her lightly freckled pale skin; pale skin that glowed.

What shocked me though was her eyes…they were a deep cinnamon brown, a colour normally associated with warmth…but at that moment they were cool and emotionless. They held a type of bleak pity in them that disturbed me and the mild interest that flared up as she looked over at me made me shudder inwardly.

"_I'll take him from here," she said, her tone one of brisk confidence. I found my self staring in shock as this delicate little wisp of a girl ordered the Parkinson brothers about as if they were…well, not the Parkinson brothers. Against my will I found myself moving forward to protect her, all the while cursing the bloody streak of decency my mother had installed in me._

"_Right Gin, you look after him now," Parius said with a smile, to my utter astonishment he reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately._

"_I will, I promise," she replied her voice warm and allowed Peter to pull her into a brotherly hug, "I'm taking him straight to Dumbledore,"_

_I was in to much shock to question her, to much shock to do anything really except throw a thankful look in the Parkinson brother's direction._

_Parius nodded at me, he understood. I allowed Ginny to take my hand, and she took my face in her hands so I was facing her._

"_Listen, I'll need you to try and act as casual as possible," she said; her voice was gentle and her hands warm and firm against my face._

"_It's not beyond my capabilities," I replied trying, and failing, to inject the Malfoy sneer into my voice, she simply smiled at me and grabbed my hand, positioning my arm so it was about her shoulders. Then slipping her arm about my waist she dragged me out into the main street_.

* * *

Doesn't seem like much does it? But to me it was the moment I realised Ginevra Weasley was not all that she appeared to be. And by letting her take my hand that day I made the one decision in my life that I have never regretted making.

There were a lot of other realisations after that first one, just little thing's that made me respect her. I constantly found myself being amazed by her skills and the front she put up to hide them, I never would have guessed that behind the timid persona of the youngest Weasley there was a confident young woman with magical talent galore and the intelligence to know how to use it. In fact, if anyone had told me I probably would have laughed myself silly.

She was part of the reason I lasted as a member of the Order, her bravery, her courage, her surprising insight. I used to get so angry that her own family wasn't even aware of her skills, she kept them so well hidden that at times I doubted they were really there. But then I would see little things, the way her eyes flashed when no one else was looking, the surprising speed and cool accuracy with which she moved in dangerous the situations, the way she covered it all up with a sweet expression and an angelic smile.

Yes over time I learnt the true brilliance of Ginevra Weasley, and to this day only a select few know. I feel honoured to be one of them, honoured that over time we became friends; earned each others trust.

The only problem is, I am never going to see her again, and over the past three weeks, I've realised yet another opportunity that I've passed over, without even realising. There is the slightest possibility that over the past few years I may just have fallen in love with Ginevra Weasley. Maybe not love, maybe infatuation, a crush, something at any rate, something i've never felt before.

Of course, I never realised it was happening at the time, and to tell the truth I don't even know when it started. Maybe the night before I left for the last mission before I got caught, maybe that fateful day in Diagon Alley. Maybe there was no specific time and it was something that developed over time, something so subtle, so unintended...

* * *

My head snaps up suddenly as the sounds of screams and explosions that have been growing steadily closer for the past few hours suddenly grow in volume. as if they are right outside my cell door. I push down the sudden glimmer of hope, even if it is the Order, who's to say they'll win?

Not that it matters now, I can feel myself blacking out, I've been striving to stay conscious for far too long. I want to see Ginny, I want to tell her I'm sorry, I try to scream but already I'm too weak for even that.

"Draco? Draco where are you, you bloody ferret?" faintly, at the edge of consciousness I hear her voice, calling me. With a blast of hot air the door implodes and a lone figure enters the room.

"You're not real," I muttered bitterly, "You're just another fake, another…hey!"

I flinched as I felt a hard cool palm strike my left cheek, "Draco Malfoy I am as real now as I will ever be," a controlled female voice stated and I looked up with renewed hope. A murmured incantation and siddenly i'm falling from the wall to a crumpled heap on the floor. In an instant Ifeel myself being dragged to my feet and pulled form the room.

"Voldemort's dead. Harry killed him, the Order's broken into the prison and are currently freeing everyone they can." she explained in rapid whispers, "I came to get you...Lucius...he's dead, I had to...i'm sorry Draco."

"S'no problem," I murmured in response, my mind a hazy blur as I stumbled along the darkened corridor, around us the air is silent and eerily calm for now, but if I strain my ears I can hear screaming, the roar of fire, or was that the blood in my ear

* * *

I wake up later, how much later I don't know. I'm in a bed, and everything is warm and whole, I don't chance moving to find out just how far this feeling of comfort extends, but if I shift my gazze just a little bit I can see a hand covering mines, and although I can't quite feel it, I appreciate the sentiment.

"I see you're awake, finally." her teasing tone doesn't quite cover up the relief in her voice, a glass of water is lifted to my lips and I take a sip, grateful.

"I thought we were going to lose you." she says quietly, and I know that she has been saying this, repeatedly, to my prone form for days now. Her hand reaches out to brush a lock of hair away from my face and stays there, I relish in the feel of her skin on mine

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she is slightly tearful now, perhaps after days of waiting for me to wake up she expected more upon my awakening. With a supreme effort I lift both hands to hold her free one, gently kneading it, and I smile at her, "I missed you."

Possibly not a good idea, she begins to cry and I insitinctively reach out to hug her, stroking her hair, making shushing noises and sliding her onto the bed beside me in order to hold her properly. She gasps out a series of incoherent sounds, moves to hold me back, her head buries itself in my neck.

"Miss me too then?" I try and inject some gentle humor into my voice and she she lets out a small chuckle in response.

"Yes you big oaf, I missed you too." she moves to look up at me, her dark eyes brimming with tears and something more, something I can't identify, "Harry asked me to marry him." she said finally, and I feel my heart twist, this was the last thing i'd expected when I woke up. With a tremendous struggle I keep my voice calm.

"Oh."

"I told him I needed to think about it." she continues, her voice cracks, her expression is questioning, she's waiting for _something._

I can see the tears welling up again, she lifts her hand to show me the distinctive lack of a ring, and I take a chance, I figure I can blame it one my injuries of it turns out wrong. I seize the moment, this moment, this opportunity, I wont let it pass by.

"Tell him no." I say quietly, "Tell him never, Ginevra."

And I kiss her, a soft, probing kiss, hinting at what I would like to do but stating that I will respect her wishes regardless. She doesn't leave me waiting, my angel, my fire fairy, her amrs tighten their hold on me and she deepens the kiss. I am positive that I am in heaven, because it seems impossible that such grace could be bestowed on me other wise.

"I hoped you might say that." she murmurs against my lips, taking the opportunity to place light, teasing kisses, "I love you."

"Love you too." I whisper back.

This is heaven, this is the perfect moment.

**Author's Note**: Just a little random thing I thought up a while ago and decided to post. Constructive Criticism is welcome


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